Three Minutes
ESTELLE
All three tests are lined up side-by-side on the bathroom counter, and my phone is right next to them. The three-minute timer is counting down torturously slow.
I haven’t decided yet how to deal with any of it.
You and Carlos are more alike than you think.
Being alike doesn’t make two people compatible. And yet, I have no trouble believing that Carlos and I can make it work—that was never in question.
It’s a crazy thought considering that I’ve only known him a little over a month.
Two minutes.
A child will change everything.
I’m not ready.
But you are.
The thought is a surprise, and my whole body freezes, including the breath in my lungs.
Something loosens its grip on me the closer the timer gets to reaching zero. It starts in my shoulders; they slacken, the stiffness of tension melting away.
I did everything I could to get myself out of my father’s influence, even if it meant alienating my mother when it became clear she didn’t want to be free.
I survived.
I survived again and again.
At some point, danger doesn’t register the same when your mind is hardwired to make it regardless of what life throws at you.
I never stole, never harmed anyone to get what I want, never made myself smaller to get ahead, and never kissed anyone’s ass either.
I always knew I could make it.
Maybe that’s the kind of mindset that blinded me to the dangers of Carlos’ world.
When it’s just my own life on the line, I’m pretty good at walking through the fire, but I didn’t expect the consequences of my choices to affect Elsa and Micah.
One minute.
If I’m being honest with myself—and I think I need to be right now—it’s not Carlos’ world that scares me. It’s the fear of being responsible for someone else getting hurt because of my choice to live in it.
To be with him.
It’s a valid fear, isn’t it?
And yet—
No one’s ever given a damn about how their choices will affect my life.
Not my father.
Not my mother when she chose to stay.
Not the rich bastards when they decided to throw me under the bus.
Not even Elsa.
No one—until Carlos.
Maybe that’s what I’m really not used to—being cared for not as a burden or obligation, but as someone’s priority.
The alarm goes off. I stare at the tests with steady breaths.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
I wait for anxiety to consume me, but it never comes. Neither does relief or joy.
I’m just...calm.
After stuffing the tests back in their boxes, then the paper bag, I wash my hands and splash my face with water. My expression stares back at me.
Positive.
The door folds open as I pull on the handle.
Carlos is standing right outside, eyes intense, arms folded. His gaze bores into mine for a long moment, neither of us speaking or moving.
His large hands grip the sides of my waist, applying enough pressure to gently direct me backward. My legs move on automatic. I stop only when I feel the cold metal of the toilet against the back of my legs.
He slides the door closed behind him and locks it. The small space is even smaller with both of us in it. There’s nowhere else to look but at him.
It’s feels like the first day we met, when the sunglasses came off and I stared into his eyes for the first time.
No fear or intimidation—just him.
Positive.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Why did you stop at a pharmacy?”
There are so many things I could say in this moment.
“I’m pregnant.”
Carlos becomes as still as a statue.
Seconds tick by.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t even breathe.
I place a hand on his chest, and he expels a long, hard breath. I was prepared for shock, maybe even anger, but not for what he does next.
His head dips, resting his forehead against mine, then our lips meet. The kiss is soft, but firm. I surprise myself when I’m the one who deepens it.
My hand finds the nape of his neck to draw him even closer, and he comes, sucking on my bottom lip until I’m panting.
This isn’t how I thought this would go.
Breaking the kiss, I pull away to look at his face.
“We’re still on a break,” I say, breathing hard.
Carlos rolls his eyes. “Okay.”
He kisses me again, harder, his big hands gripping my ass, then he sucks a flaming path to my collarbone.
I groan.
“I mean it. We need to figure things out,” I pant.
He starts undoing the buttons on my blouse, popping the first one, then another.
“Uh-huh. On a break. Got it.”
“Carlos,” I moan when his hot mouth sucks on the exposed skin of my breast above my bra cup. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He straightens to stare into my eyes. “Right now, I’m incredibly turned on.” He yanks the cup of my bra down, exposing my breast to the cold air. “So incredibly turned on.”
His head starts to lower. I grab both sides of his face, forcing him to keep looking at me.
“Carlos,” I whisper, breathless, “I’m serious about us needing to figure this out. I’m trying not to freak out here.”
He sighs, drawing patterns on my belly with his finger.
“I know this is a surprise,” he tweaks one of my nipples, making my eyes flutter from the sharp pleasure going straight to my core, “but I’m happy. Are you?”
“I...I don’t know.”
He nods, then straightens the bra cups back over my breasts. My gut tightens as he starts buttoning my blouse.
“Carlos—”
“It’s okay. I know you’re still unsure about...us. You have every right to be.”
I shake my head but can’t get the words out to tell him how I feel.
“We’ll go get you checked out as soon as we land, baby. Then we’ll talk, okay?” He rests his forehead against mine.
“Okay,” I whisper, looking down.
He gently grabs my chin, and lifts my head to lock eyes again.
“I promise I will take care of you, Estelle.” His thumb caresses my cheek. “I’m going to take care of our child.”
He places a kiss on my forehead, then turns to leave. The door slides open. He stands in the doorway, facing me.
I see the tension around his eyes, even though his posture and expression remain relaxed.
“And we’re not on a break.”
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